Some day I will write something lighthearted, but with all this talk about a so-called "reform" of the nation's health care system, we must not neglect the nation's literary health.
Indeed, on those days when we encounter the harshness of life which itself intersects with the natural rhythmic beauty of the seasons, there is but one literary device to communicate the deepest groanings of the human soul – haiku.
Higher haiku is deeply ingrained in Texas prairie folk, and the love of it has been passed down to me. It's a good thing, because today it was 100 degrees in Dallas and I was pondering why this city exists. As I deliberated the metaphysics of it all, I then realized that the cabbie who reeked of booze was driving off with my wallet in his car.
Then, the following haiku rushed over my soul like a mountain spring and I was whole again:
Thieves
Wallet gone in cab
Sweating, broke but no worries …
Thief gets health care, too.
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